Sure
by September's Nobara
Summary: With a phone call in the early morning, Wolfwood is requested to perform a slapdash marriage ceremony, and has Vash come along. WxV, ocXoc.


"Sure" by September's Nobara

Pages used in this creation: five

Pairings: WxV, OCxOC (and, with the mention of a pair of original characters, I feel prospective readers are going to run for the hills, ha ha).

Warnings: Strongly implied/outright shonen-ai, implied/outright female OC preg.

**A/Ns: **This fiction is the result of listening to the song "Slide" by the Goo Goo Dolls, and yes, I know the names are spelled differently-it's intentional. There are also differences between the song's resolution, and the fiction resulting from it. Additionally, this was a first attempt at a first person Vash narrative. This is a **corrected repost **of the original, which was posted way back on November 20th, 2006, which is probably why it looks somewhat familliar. Virtually nothing is changed, just the addition of the lines between some occurances in the story, in order to facilitate elapses in time. Now, please sit back, and enjoy "Sure".

* * *

_"The priest is on the phone..._

_I won't say anything at all..._

_Ah, May, put your arms around me,_

_what you feel is what you are, _

_And what you are is beautiful-_

_ah, May-do you wanna get married, or run away?"_

_-Slide_, The Goo Goo Dolls

"Sure, of course it's no problem."

_What...? What's he talking about?_

"I'll be there soon. Thank you for calling me. Thank you, you too. Good night."

Rustling, the squeak of the bed as someone sits on it, and an incline where that someone sits, forcing my toes to touch them on the side of their thigh.

"'Morning, Tongari."

_Morning? _I wonder, slight confusion knotting my eyebrows up, pressing them together. "Wolfwood...?" The priest's last name is sucked into my mouth and voice as I yawn, a slight shiver running through me at the lack of warmth-yes, it was one of the times we'd been required to rent a room with just the one bed.

"Yeah?"

For a moment, I struggle with yawning, and the first words are lost again in the vacuum that is my mouth, but I'm good to talk afterward. "Where're you going?" I try to lift myself up into a sitting position, though my arms give out on me halfway, and I fall back to the bed, whatever small amount of energy I had at the moment spent.

"Tired?"

"Yeah, I guess," I say, a self-effacing grin, accompanied by a small laugh, eking a way out of me.

"My bad; I should've turned in sooner."

"Don't apologize, Wolfwood. It's not your fault, anyway." I turn to face him, the light of early morning painting his face and illuminating his expression.

_Reminds me of the way he looked at me last night, _I think, hazily, remembering last night's incident of gunfire, blood, and his impromptu surgery, as I stretch; arms first, elbows and shoulders making cracking noises, then my knees, and my ankles and toes. _Almost like Meryl, or... _her.

"Didn't sleep well, I take it?" Wolfwood asks, helping me up; he'd winced a bit while the orchestra was going on, a particularly comical expression showing up when I rolled my feet and toes-never mind the fact that he does the same thing.

"No, not too well." I crack my neck, eliciting another look of vague shock and even slighter amusement. "The bed was too small."

"Sorry, Tongari," Wolfwood throws out as he shoves me toward the bathroom, in order for me to get dressed. "It was either this room, or camping out, and it's starting to get cold."

"M'hmm," I reply, pulling off the pajama top. As I'm getting dressed for the motorcycle trip, I hear scuffling around, as if he's searching for something. "Hey, Wolfwood?" I call from behind the closed door.

"Yeah?"

"Where are we going? Sounds like you got a request or something."

For a moment, I hear nothing, then a sigh. "It's a marriage ceremony," he says as I walk out of the rest room. "One of those 'spur of the moment' things."

Oh.

* * *

"Go ahead, get on," Wolfwood says, over the rumbling engine of Angelina-two, or is it three?-"it's not like it'll bite you, or anything!" He revs the engine for emphasis, and I'm sure I can see his rain cloud eyes rolling in a good-natured fashion under the cover of his sunglasses.

"Fine," I reply in a grumble, slinging my right leg over the seat of the motorcycle, just barely touching him.

"S' not like _I'll _bite you, either, Tongari," Wolfwood holds his arms out, fingers curled around the handlebars, elbows pointing to either side, indicating that I should lean forward and hold on for support. Tentatively, I wrap my arms around his waist, the cold of the early morning fading as I sigh into place. "Better," he says, "I don't want to be responsible for you having another accident."

"Hm..." I murmur into the narrow valley of his shoulder blades, warming my face on his upper back. Sighing, I tighten my arms a bit, getting a small rumble of laughter from Wolfwood.

_So warm..._

"Tongari? Tongari..."

"Huh?" I lift my head up, the morning suns barely showing up.

"Rise and shine, Spikey, we're here."

"T-thanks," I blush slightly, realizing that I'd fallen asleep on him during the ride into the next town. The pink across my face probably deepens in shade when he grins lightly at me, saying that we should go soon, to find the couple who'd called that morning.

"They said they'd meet us at the church," Wolfwood says, pointing toward a large building, the symbolic and decorative needle-thin cross rising above most of the buildings, almost glowing as sunslight reflects in golden-silver light.

"Wow," I murmur, squinting against the piercing color. _It's so much like us, like life, almost..._

"Yeah," Wolfwood agrees, and, from the corner of my eye, I see a slight smile curve around his face. Clearing my throat, I open my mouth to speak, but my stomach gets in the way, menacing any other ideas not having anything to do with food.

"Hungry?" His grin grew wider.

"Yes, actually, I am; you pulled me out of town before either of us could eat." Irritated, I glare a bit at him, though he only laughs, shrugging off my ire with a mention of breakfast. I acquiesce, pointing out a restaurant that had caught my eye, with a mention of doughnuts and warm coffee, while Wolfwood probably just agrees because it has a smoking section advertised.

_Second, or is it the third? I can't even tell anymore, _I think, my barstool spun to face the more hazy area of the restaurant, leaning on the counter, observing while Wolfwood inflicts more damage to his lungs. _Thank you, lord, that his back's to me, inhaling those twists of cancer, otherwise I think I'd want to crawl under one of the tables here._

It's not like I don't know; of course he's a, I guess you could say nice, person, however questionable one might find his habits, and evasive maneuvers whenever the subject of my brother comes up, but... it'll never really happen-he'll just smile, and wave off my selfish proclamation of this _something_ that I feel around him. Especially when he smiles, pats my shoulder, grips a bit tighter, and leaves, only to return when he's been driving the motorcycle for a while too long, and tells me it's time for me to practice my abysmal skills at handling his "automotive vehicle" (I've seen the papers Millie and Meryl leave on his bedside table for fill out and return; it's rather insulting-assuming we-well, okay, _he_-can't drive well enough to not get in an accident).

I'm never sure what's going on when he smiles at me, is he trying to diffuse (or defuse?) a situation that's not even his fault to begin with? Well, technically, it's half his fault-if he hadn't been so... so...I don't know, so _himself_, maybe this wouldn't have happened. Then, he grins, one of those kinds that reaches to his eyes, just like the way he looked at those kids when he gave away the pair of wafer-crackers to them.

I don't know if I hate it when he smiles at me... or if I just fall into that something with him all over again.

"Just about done, then?"

I snap up from my daydream moment, nearly slipping off the chair as his voice, husky and dark, pervades my thoughts.

"Y-yes," I stammer, a snap of a shiver running through my body just as he slips his glasses on, looking away, giving me time to compose myself. "Ready to go?"

"Mm-hmm."

Sharing the bill, we walk down the several blocks in silence; his gait takes him about a half-foot farther than me, though I think if I walked quicker, I'd catch up.

_Great; now I'm comparing our walking styles?!_

"Spikey," Wolfwood says, his voice tinted with something, hesitation, maybe?

"Yes?" I answer, giving him a sideways glance, eyebrow raised.

"Thanks," he replies quickly, "for coming with me."

"No problem, Wolfwood."

His face is embraced by another one of those smiles, though, I'm not as frustrated by them as I was before.

"Here we are," he says, stopping resolutely in front of the tall double doors, glancing up, his eyes squinting through the sunglasses he'd somehow slid onto his face during the walk, smoke drifting up, lazily dancing into oblivion. "They should be here, soon."

I nod gratuitously, mentally dropping back, and listening past our breathing, the wind, and sounds of the town behind us.

"...Mr. Wolfwood...?"

Ah, there they are.

"Yes?"

"It's... it's me, Samuel, from on the phone this morning?"

"Good to see you, Samuel," Wolfwood says, as a pair of near-adults slide into the light from the shadow of the church. Next to the boy calling himself "Samuel", a young woman, hanging back a few steps-like I had a few moments ago with Wolfwood-walked with him. A slim hand rises to brush several strands of hair out of her face, tucking the deep brown locks behind her right ear, revealing bright, but tired, eyes the color of faded denim peering out at us.

As she steps closer to Samuel, whispering something in his ear, then taking his hand, more shadows ebb away, giving way to her body, which would be considered rather slight, if it weren't for a slight bulge to her abdomen, too obvious to be a break in one of those fad diets that pop up every so often, and the self-conscious, protective way she draped an arm around the perimeter of it.

"Mr. Wolfwood, this is Mei," Samuel says softly, gesturing with his right hand to the young woman, who waves a little bit with her free hand, smiling slightly. "Mei, this is Mr. Wolfwood, and...?"

"Vash," I say, smiling; it's the same smile we both hate about each other.

"Nice to meet you," Samuel responds, his face only changing when his mouth moves.

"Same here," I respond, as Wolfwood touches me on the shoulder, squeezing it quickly, gently. I look over at him, an eyebrow raised.

"Would you mind waiting out here for a few moments? I'll get you when it's time to start."

"Sure, no problem, Wolfwood."

* * *

I'm sitting in the shadows of the church, keeping cool, if only marginally, when I hear the doors to the building creak open for a second time.

"Vash?"

"Yes?" I say, rising and dusting myself off.

"They're ready for the ceremony. Please come in."

I follow the other man into the church, waiting for a moment as my eyes adjust to the slightly dim, sunlit cathedral. The way our feet echo as we walk past row upon row of pews, it's obvious that I'll be the only civilian witness in this act of matrimony.

"Thank you, Mr. Wolfwood, Mr. Vash," a small, feminine voice whispers out. "We really appreciate this."

"Mei's right. Thank you both." Samuel says, slightly louder than his soon-to-be wife; this time, he shakes both of our hands, quick up and down motions, almost jerking with nerves. Mei smiles again, almost from behind her nearly husband.

"Ready?" Wolfwood says, a resolute, but happy, expression on his face as he draws out the Bible from his coat pocket.

"Yes," they both reply. As I settle in the front row of the pews, I sigh as Wolfwood's voice slips into this serious tone he gets sometimes, like when he's talking about his kids at the church/orphanage he works at-though, from his eyes, the light that raises his brows, how his concerns dissipate, save for the ones about the church, anyone looking him in those eyes of his can tell that he loves his work.

"... in sickness, and in health, for as long as you both shall live?"

"I do," Samuel replies, pushing his blonde-brown hair out of his similarly colored eyes, thin lips smiling lightly as he looks down to Mei, who, after being asked the same question, nods.

"I do."

After the final sentence, they only embrace each other.

"Good luck, you two," Wolfwood says as he mounts his motorcycle. I wait for a moment before swinging my left leg over, resting a few inches away from him. "Take care, and may you go with the Grace of God."

"You, too, Mr. Wolfwood, Mr. Vash," Mei says, smiling fully since the first time we met her.

"Thank you," I say, and Wolfwood nods, a light smile on his face.

"You two have transportation?" Wolfwood inquires, cocking an eyebrow.

"We have two-way Sandsteamer tickets; we're meeting my aunt on it." Mei says.

"That's great," Wolfwood responds.

"See you later, sirs." Samuel says, raising a palm in farewell.

"Same to you." Wolfwood waves once, and starts up the bike, which jolts to life, making me cling to him, desperately hoping not to fall off.

"Just making sure you're paying attention, Tongari!"

"Whatever happened to "thou shalt not kill"? What kinda churchman are ya, anyway?!"

"One of a kind, Tongari, one of a kind!"

* * *

"You mean you forgot to buy groceries?"

"Er..." I say, quailing at Meryl's words and tone, though it was more tired than angry.

"What's wrong?" Wolfwood interjects, before she can open her mouth.

Sighing, Meryl says, "I'm worried, that's all. I know Millie's a big girl, but I'm afraid of what might happen at the station." She looks to the floor.

"What'd Millie be doing at the station?" I ask, genuinely curious.

"Oh, she's meeting a niece and her husband there, for chaperone purposes. Mei, I think her name is."

"Ah. Well, with Millie, I'm sure they'll be all right," Wolfwood says earnestly, his large hand patting her softly on the shoulder. "Now, what do you say we all go out for groceries, and surprise the big girl with pudding?"

"That sounds great, Mr. Wolfwood," she glares at me. "Unlike some people, you're so considerate."

As Meryl starts walking out the door, I turn to Wolfwood. "Thanks for that."

"Welcome, Tongari." He momentarily claps his hand on my shoulder, and pulls me closer. "Now, we should get going, before I have to haul you out of her fiendish grasp." He makes his fingers resemble claws, a feat in itself with his blunt hands, nails dulled to the quick.

"Deal," I say, shaking his hand; though, when the formality ceases, we both hold on a little longer than necessary. I'm grinning for the rest of the day.

* * *

**A/Ns: **Thanks for reading! I do hope you enjoyed this. I tried to deal with the subject matter as tactfully as possible.

Take care,

September's Nobara.


End file.
